


Scarf Weather

by elletromil



Series: Flakes of Snow [6]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Can be read as just friendship, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, scarf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:44:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8817286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: The weather outside keeps getting colder and Percival has never been more grateful for his warm coat and even warmer scarf.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [johanirae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/johanirae/gifts).



> So I saw [johanirae](http://johanirae.tumblr.com/)'s wonderful [artwork](http://johanirae.tumblr.com/post/154327760866/fantastic-beasts-and-where-to-find-them-take-myartwork) this morning and I couldn't resist writing her a ficlet for it

The weather outside keeps getting colder and Percival has never been more grateful for his warm coat and even warmer scarf. He’s usually not that sensitive too cold, but after being stuck in what could only be called a dungeon, and a damn humid one at that, he cares much less what he looks like all bundled up in his coat as long as he can’t feel the chilly wind.

He’s even starting to wish for some snow, because no matter how inconvenient the stuff is, at least it will mean slightly warmer weather.

If it get any colder, he might be persuaded to take a page out of Newt’s book and add even more layers to his clothing, might even ask Queenie if she could knit him one of those soft-looking sweaters he’s seen her give the no-maj he isn’t supposed to know about. It’s time someone pays him for his continuing silence on the matter after all.

The free pastries don’t count, the man so kind he’d probably go bankrupt trying to feed anyone who looks vaguely down their luck or is slightly friendly to him.

Lost in thoughts of warm wool and delicious croissants, he isn’t really looking where he’s going and nearly runs into another passerby. Several of his Aurors don’t understand why he insists on walking in this weather, but they never have been imprisoned for months on ends with barely enough space to walk three steps. Except for emergencies, he doesn’t see himself starting to apparate regularly anywhere before a very long time.

And seeing who he had barely managed to catch by the arm before they fall on the ground, maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Even though Tina has offered him to stay with her and Queenie, Credence has refused to be what he sees as an imposition. No one is really sure where he spends the night, but they’ve all listened to Newt’s advice to give the young man time and space and so far, Credence has made sure to visit at least one of them each day.

It’s not often that he comes to Percival, not that he can really blame him with the memories that must be associated with his face all thanks to that thrice-cursed madman who stole his appearance, but at least he doesn’t look anymore like he’s waiting to be hurt.

There’s still wariness in his eyes of course, but the small smile that curls his lips when he recognizes Percival is honest. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but he has no doubt it’s only a question of time with all the friends in his life now.

“You okay?” A nod is Credence’s only answer, the young man never one to talk more than he has to. Percival doesn’t mind, can even appreciate it. He genuinely likes Newt, he does, but once the man starts on his creatures, there is no stopping him. Sometimes all Percival wants is some peace and quiet, the preference in good company. “Going to the bakery? Want to walk with me?”

Another nod and a slightly brighter smile. He finally releases his hold on Credence’s upper arm and only then notices how inappropriately he is dressed for the weather. As if to confirm Percival’s observation, a shiver shakes Credence’s frame.

He doesn’t quite realise what he’s doing until he’s wrapped his scarf around Credence’s neck and the young man is looking at him with shock and awe, his hands gripping the fabric like a lifeline.

“Here, take my scarf,” he says rather unnecessarily and he cannot remember if Credence’s cheeks were already that red from the cold or not.

And if he walks a bit closer to the young man than what is truly appropriate, well, _it is_ cold outside and he’s merely making sure he won’t be freezing to death until someone- Percival- gets him a better coat.


End file.
